So I’ve got this restaurant that some friends and I have been going to for over two years. The manager used to be a nice Indian woman whose husband I would occasionally say hi to, and whose little baby I always waved at, to receive in turn a pudgy wave from her.
I say the manager used to be a nice Indian woman. A few days ago, she decided to show me that as a customer, I come to her restaurant to be assured.
I had my laptop with me, and wanted to use it. Unfortunately, there was no socket near where I was seated. I looked to where the socket was. Seated near it were two lovebirds wrapped around each other. Like two cars around a tree.
I wasn’t going to ask them to move.
So I moved to the nearest other socket which happened to be near the bar and stretched my cable out as carefully as I could so no one could trip over it. After 15 minutes, a waitress tapped me on the shoulder.
“Madam has said no one is allowed to use that socket. This area is only for management”.
The bar? For management? Fine. I glanced up and noticed the lovebirds had gone. Quietly and without complaint, I lugged my belongings to the seats near that socket and happily plugged my cable in.
My laptop wasn’t charging. The socket wasn’t working. I patiently went up to Madam and told her. Her response?
“Then I don’t know what’s wrong with it”. I stared at her in puzzlement and went back to my seat to ponder what was going on. Why wasn’t she helping me? Why wasn’t she offering the socket for ‘management’? An Idea reached me. Maybe the socket needed more persuasion.
So I went back at it. Rolled up my sleeve and fought with the socket. Nothing doing. I collapsed on my seat and tried to wear as dejected and unhappy an air as was possible. Then I glanced towards ‘Madam’. She was laughing and playing with her family.
At this point, I was intrigued to see just how far her bad manners would go. I walked up to her, holding my laptop towards her gingerly.
“What if I just put it on the floor to charge for half an hour, and come back for it later?”
“No”, she responded. “Only five minutes, I can allow you”.
I started to fume.
“Five minutes?”, I questioned. “That’s nothing”. Duh. “I’m a customer here. I have been for years! Are you seriously refusing me to charge my laptop?”
Her answer jolted me to the bone.
“I’m here to provide you with food and drinks, not power”.
Despite myself, I blinked.
“What did you say?”, I gasped.
“Yes”, she said patiently. “I…”
“Forget it”, I snapped. I walked away, picked my abused laptop, and left the restaurant.
You woman? You are the winner.